Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I tried my hardest to act like it was no big deal when really, it was killing me. There was a beat of silence as Oz blinked at me.
“Um…?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me. I could tell he wanted to know what I thought–maybe have me ask him to shoot the guy down. But I forced myself to remain silent. As much as I wanted Oz to be only mine for the next eight weeks, I didn’t have the right to ask that of him. It would just bind us closer together, and that would only make it harder to leave when the time came. Maybe if there’d been the option of a long-distance relationship or something… no, I needed to make it a clean break when the time came. Keeping it casual was a necessary evil to making it easier for both of us to walk away.
When I didn’t say anything, Oz dropped his eyes and toyed with the decal in his hand. “Um, okay, fine… I guess.”
I told myself I should respond in some fashion, but there wasn’t enough oxygen in my lungs, so I merely turned around to walk back to Doc Sharma’s office, leaving my crushed heart in the patient waiting room. At least the red would match the god-awful furniture.
Chapter 19
Oz
I watched Jake’s stiff frame disappear into the back of the clinic and felt my heart stutter in my chest. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was trying to keep his distance from me–keep me at arm’s length for my own good. Over the past couple of weeks, I’d seen many instances of that kind of behavior from him.
Once, when I’d shared my excitement with him at being selected for the main show at Fashion Week rather than the indie one, he’d gone overboard apologizing for not being able to be there to support me in person. I’d wanted to shake him and remind him that I hadn’t invited him, that I was trying my fucking hardest to respect his stupid, mysterious bullshit. But I’d bitten my tongue instead and just let his apologies peter out.
Another time, he’d mentioned that I could move into his cabin if I decided to come back to Haven after the show in New York.
“If Xander and Bennett sell or rent theirs to someone else, you can come here,” he’d said while we’d been having breakfast at his place one morning. Jake had made sure to keep from meeting my eyes as he’d spoken, and I’d been able to tell the subject bothered him.
I’d been so upset at the reminder that what we had came with a looming deadline that I’d momentarily reverted to my snarky nothing-can-touch-me attitude. “I’ll be fine,” I’d said. “I can look out for myself, you know. And I’m sure Xander and Bennett would help me find another place if I ever needed it.”
Fortunately, Jake hadn’t called me out on my behavior. He’d merely said, “I just know how much you like it here, and I’d hate to think you wouldn’t come back here because…” At that point, his voice had dropped off and the unspoken words of because I’m not here lay heavy in the room.
“I’d come back,” I’d said quietly, almost under my breath.
It was something I’d started to spend more and more time thinking about, actually. I’d thought about how much I loved the slower pace of life in Haven, how I adored the cold, crisp air and the dark, silent nights on the mountain. I enjoyed people beginning to recognize me in town and wave to me from across the street as I passed them. Of all the people I’d met, not one had seemed to recognize even a hint of Laird in me.
And I loved that almost as much as all the time I’d spent with Jake.
To Haven, I was just Oz.
To Jake, I was Oz and more.
But the Russ thing was different. It wasn’t about Russ at all. It was about Jake reminding me that what we were doing was having some fun, both in and out of bed, before we went our separate ways. And apparently, he seemed to think the only way I’d get that message was for me to see and fuck another guy at the same time. The very thought of it made me want to scream and throw things, have an actual hissy fit to put all other tantrums to shame. If anyone in the fashion world had ever seen Laird act entitled, they hadn’t seen anything compared to how I felt about Jake giving me unspoken permission to be with some other guy. And if he even thought about seeing someone else…
Nope.
No fucking way.
It was bad enough that what we had came with an expiration date–there was no way in hell I was adding in the complication of seeing other people into the mix. My brain just couldn’t wrap itself around that.